


I Run to You

by gegemoon



Category: Football RPF
Genre: European Championship 2012, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gegemoon/pseuds/gegemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basti just wants to give Mark a hug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Run to You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [gif](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5z6uc6aXb1qgmhjro2_250.gif) via tumblr.

As the final whistle goes, Basti rubs the back of his neck where the soreness is killing him.  
"Ah...shit." He glares at Huntelaar, who just stroke Basti's neck a few minutes ago, thinking why every fucking game has to end up with him being attacked.  
Basti searches for that person on pitch, and then recalls he was subbed out.  
He deliberately avoids the chatting Dutch crowd on the field, so that no one will stop him to ask for his jersey.  
"Hey, nice game!" J. Boateng reaches out one hand.  
"Right back at ya." Basti says absently, clapping Jeremy's hand. Then he runs away before the bunch of teammates following Jeremy comes up to him.

Fortunately, Mark is still there. He's standing right in front of the exit, greeting everybody - both Dutch and German, like a decent leader would do.  
When Basti gets there, Mark was giving Jogi a brief hug.

"Hi!" Basti pants from the run, "You haven't left."  
"Sort of waiting to congrat you." Mark opens his arms.  
Basti leans in, like there's nothing more natural than this. He twists his neck so he can fit his head between Mark's neck and shoulder, his face feeling the edge of Mark's jaw.  
For about two seconds, the world around them melts into complete white.  
Basti's hot body shivers when meeting Mark's cool skin because of the time sitting on bench.  
Basti's brains decides this sensation is good before he can think it through, and then demands his body to act, so that Basti's head can feel the other side of Mark's body.  
Left. Right. Left. Right. ...  
He's not sure how many times he's shifted, until he realizes his lips are on Mark's jawline, right next to Mark's ear.  
"You know," Mark mutters into Basti's ear, breath much warmer than his skin, "your couch is standing behind me, don't you?"  
"Yep. I can see his face," Basti smirks, "Awkward and all. But I don't care. I just wanted to run to you and give you...a little comfort."  
Marks pulls back and looks at Basti.  
"Thanks. Exact what I needed."  
"I...We missed you." Basti subconsciously rubs his nose.  
"Same here."  
Mark gently strikes the bandage on the back of Basti's neck, "Gonna go. Take care of yourself, will you?"  
"I'll try." Basti shrugs with a grin.  
And then they pulls their hands back from each other.

"The Netherland wasn't playing like a team," Oli Kahn comments on TV, "The problems comes from Van Bommel, who's too old to be on the line-up."  
"Oh, snap!" Holger and Thomas yell at the bar.  
"Er...Basti, where're you going?" Holger looks over his shoulder at Bastil, who's about to leave.  
"Got a phone call to make." So he replies.

=============FIN============


End file.
